


Dark Before the Faun

by For-Chan Cookie (ForChanCookie)



Series: Of Myths and Mutants [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fauns & Satyrs, Fix-It, Gen, Mutation, Paralysis, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForChanCookie/pseuds/For-Chan%20Cookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles isn't adjusting to his paralysis very well. There's the physical therapy, the exhaustion, the horns?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Before the Faun

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the terrible pun in the title, but I knew my friend would hate it, so I had to use it. I promise the rest of the work is not full of puns.

Charles was not adjusting to being paralyzed very well. Not that he ever expected it to be easy, but he never thought it would be so draining. Lying in bed should not be so exhausting. He didn’t even have the energy to go through the suggested physical therapy. He barely had enough energy to wake up in the morning and eat a meal, let alone transfer to his new wheelchair and go about his day. It was frustrating. He knew that the boys were worried for him. He was worried for himself really, worried that perhaps being in Shaw’s head as he’d died had some dreadful side effects.

He was so preoccupied with theories about the possible repercussions, it took him a few days to really notice his legs. He tried to avoid looking at them for the most part. It sent a deep sense of despair through him knowing that he would never walk on them again and that eventually, they would wither from disuse. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

He was sitting in the bathtub when he first noticed the alarming thinness of his calves. And his feet looked considerably smaller than he remembered. He thought, perhaps, it was a matter of his mind playing tricks on him and he was too nervous to consult with anyone on the situation. After all, he had a little pride left and he didn’t want it to look as if he were losing his mind. The situation still niggled at him though. Especially when he decided that the hair on his thighs was getting particularly thick. He’d always been rather sparsely haired, so the thick auburn hair accumulating on his legs was rather noticeable.

He began researching paralysis and the effects on the body, particularly loss of muscle mass in the legs and possible hair growth. Nothing he found suggested that his loss of muscle mass should be so dramatic, or that his body should decide it wanted to be a yeti below the waist. He was finally considering bringing it up with Hank when a frighteningly potent migraine felled him for a full week. He was left writhing in agony. It felt as though Erik were back pushing, not one, but two coins through his head.

The boys took turns coming in to bathe his forehead with cool water, otherwise, they left him alone in the cool darkness of his room. They forwent the pills as Charles could not stomach them, or anything really. Hank attempted an intravenous painkiller, but he reacted badly to that as well. Charles was quite sure that he was dying. Then, just as suddenly as the pain had descended, it was gone. The ordeal left him exhausted, even more than usual, and it was another day before he even considered moving. Even then, it was a trial just to lift his hand and run it through his sweat-matted hair.

He froze immediately. There was something on his head. No. There was something protruding from his head. He shifted his hand. Two somethings! His other hand flew up to his head and he began to run them over what felt like two small horns. They probably were hardly visible nested in his mop of hair as they were, but still, they were horns! He hadn’t had them a week ago. But now they were there. He quickly turned, intending to get into his chair and head for the nearest mirror. That was when the second difference struck him. When he turned, his legs had moved as they hadn’t done on their own since before Cuba. He was quick to tear the sheet off of his legs.

Charles realized that his room was nearly pitch black with the curtains tightly drawn against the light. He lunged for the lamp, but ended up putting too much force in the move. He knocked both the lamp and himself to the floor. The lamp smashed and he was left in a dazed heap beside the bed. The boys must not have been far because he was only on the floor for a few moments before the door flew open and the light was turned on.

“Professor, are you alright?” Alex demanded, looking around for trouble.

Hank stumbled in after him, his golden eyes flying to Charles, then widening. He inhaled suddenly. ”Professor?”

Alex turned his attention from the empty room to Charles and gasped. “Holy shit.”

Charles tore his gaze away from the boys and finally looked down at himself. Where his legs had been, well, he still had legs, but they were utterly transformed from what they’d previously been. No longer did he have feet, but rather hooves. What once was a pale expanse of skin covered in light hairs was now a landscape of thick brown fur not unlike Hank’s own blue pelt. The fur went all the way up his waist. Charles was almost certain that if he reached behind him, he’d find that the fur ended right at the scar of his bullet wound. But he wasn’t interested in touching his back. He was interested in touching his legs. He reached out slowly, pressing his hand onto his thigh. His eyes slid shut as he petted the soft fur.

“Professor?” Hank prompted quietly.

“I can feel it,” Charles said. He opened his eyes, looking up at Hank. “I can feel it.”

Hank quickly hurried over and offered Charles a hand. Charles took it and let Hank haul him to his feet, no, his hooves. He was wobbly as a new faun, but he was standing. For the first time in months he was standing!

“Perhaps you should sit Professor, you’re hyperventilating,” Hank said gently, trying to maneuver Charles back onto the bed.

“No!” He shouted, wincing at the volume. He coughed. “I’m sorry, but no. I’ve been...I’ve been in that bloody bed for so long, I’d rather stand...now that I can.”

Hank nodded and just stood, holding Charles steady.

“What the hell happened?” Alex asked, breaking out of his shocked stupor. “Did someone do this or...”

“I really don’t know,” Charles said. “When I woke up, I felt the horns. And when I moved to the side of the bed, my legs moved as well. Though I had noticed my legs thinning in places. I also noticed hair growth but I...I thought I might be imagining it or that it was some strange side effect of my paralysis. I never would have imagined this.”

“Guys? Is everything all right?” Sean yelled from somewhere else in the house. He charged into the room and blinked. “Holy shit Mr. Tumnus!”

“What?” Alex demanded, glancing over at his friend.

“You know, the faun from Narnia? Did you, like, go into the closet Prof?”

Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “Certainly not Sean. I didn’t move from the bed.”

“Then what happened?”

Hank coughed lightly. “Perhaps the professor’s accident triggered a secondary mutation?” he suggested.

“I suspect you may be on the right track.” Charles shifted, tottering around to show the boys his back. “Where does the hair stop?”

Sean tittered and Alex punched him in the arm.

“What?” Charles demanded, turning his head around to see.

“You have a tail,” Alex said as evenly as he could, though a smile was spreading across his face.

“A tail?” Charles said faintly as he reached back to confirm that yes, he did indeed have a small tail. It twitched under his touch. “Oh.”

“It does appear that the hair goes up to the scar,” Hank offered. “Perhaps your body is trying to correct itself.”

“With hooves and a tail and horns?” Charles asked, feeling slightly hysterical.

Hank gave a helpless shrug. “I gave myself blue fur, why not?”

Charles took a calming breath. “You’re right of course. We are mutants after all and I shouldn’t be so surprised. Perhaps there is an ability to adapt in all of us.”

“I would like to run tests, if I may,” Hank said.

“Of course,” Charles agreed. “As would I.”

“After dinner,” Sean interrupted. “It’s almost done. Everyone should eat before you guys hole up in the lab. Hank can stay in there for days.”

Hank looked a bit sheepish, but nodded in agreement.

Alex coughed. “And maybe a shower for the Professor?” he said, stretching out the maybe a bit more than necessary. “Not to be rude, but it’s pretty musky in here after you were sick for so long.”

Charles blushed. “Of course. How rude of me.”

“Not at all,” Hank said. “This is quite a shock. Do you....do you need help?” He gestured at the bathroom door.

Charles shook his head. “I rather hope that these legs will carry me to the bathroom,” he said, taking a tentative step away from Hank. It wasn’t walking as he knew it. It felt a bit like being on stilts and his legs bent in different place, but still it was not as foreign as he’d feared. After a few more steps, he felt less shaky and more certain. “I can do this,” he assured the boys. “I’ll join you in the kitchen shortly shall I?”

“Of course,” Hank said. He ushered the others out of the room, though he waited at the door until Charles had made it to the bathroom. Hank smiled and left, shutting the door quietly behind himself.

Charles stood nervously in the doorway to the bathroom. Once he was inside, he’d be able to fully see the dramatic changes to his body. He was nervous, but also curious and finally he stepped inside and turned to the mirror. He looked first at his face. Though thin and plagued by dark circles under his eyes, his face was unchanged. The small horns on his head just barely peeked out of his hair. They were small and blunt and he was rather thankful that he did not get the massive horns of a battering ram. It seemed that they would be terribly ungainly.

When he was done studying his horns, he continued his survey with his eyes traveling down his chest where not much had changed. Again, he was thinner, but a combination of his lack of appetite and sickness explained that. The real change came at his navel where the fur suddenly started. It was thicker than his hair, but similar in texture and color. It was thin on his belly and thicker on his sides. It was at its longest between his legs, covering his dignity. He frowned and reached into the thicket between his legs, gingerly searching out his manhood. His testicles were easy enough to find, but his penis, it was...well, it also wasn’t the penis he was familiar with. It was smaller, no, not smaller. Sheathed. As he touched it, he could feel it respond and emerge.

Charles shifted closer to the mirror, afraid to find that he had some strange tentacled goat penis. Thankfully, he didn’t. Certainly, it was not fully human, but neither was it fully animal. It was an odd mix of both. It was probably best to think of it as a faun’s penis, or rather, his own penis. He certainly felt each tentative touch quite strongly. It was the first time he’d been able to feel his penis in months. He really couldn’t be blamed for what happened next.

As he stood in the shower afterwards, he decided that of the various curveballs he’d been thrown lately, this was one he could get used to. It seemed a bit disconcerting to be his own future test subject, but the possibilities were exciting. This new mutation of his would give him a whole new perception of mutations. For the first time in quite a few months, he found himself truly anticipating tomorrow.


End file.
